You trailed behind your family through the pews, taking a seat beside your father near the front. Sunday’s were hard, mainly because you were forced into going to church as a nonbeliever. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone before the voice of the priest cut through the silence. Looking up you expected to find the same old priest you were familiar with but you were shocked to find a young attractive man beginning his sermon.

You followed his every move, each gesture of his hands, the way his tongue glided over his lips. You found yourself sitting in the edge of your seat hanging onto his every word, you didn’t need to believe in what he was saying to worship him. As mass came to a natural closing your family approached the new priest wanting to introduce themselves.

Only standing a few feet from him his musky, almost earthy, cologne filled your senses. His eyes held a distinct sense of politeness as he spoke with your parents, his gaze darkening as it moved from them to you.

“And you are…?” Father Mayhew spoke up addressing you directly, which was enough to cause a stir within your stomach.